


in mind's eye

by eggowaffle



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Butt Plugs, Domestic, Established Relationship, M/M, Making Out, Riding, copious use of 'babe', just very in luv bfs, lawyer!soonyoung, power-bottom wonwoo, restrained soonyoung, return of blindfold kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-14 06:09:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13583910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eggowaffle/pseuds/eggowaffle
Summary: Soonyoungknowsthis specific suit and tie combo is Wonwoo’s favourite look on him (something to do with his childhood crush on Phoenix Wright; Soonyoung thinks it’s the best compliment he’s ever received) andheknows thatWonwoo knowshe knows—the bottom line being that the outfit won’t go unnoticed. It’s foolproof.Blindfold kink AU.





	in mind's eye

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wonuza](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonuza/gifts).



> throws in the air and runs ilu hellmom

The evening begins not unlike its predecessors.

When Soonyoung opens the front door to his and Wonwoo’s apartment, he’s greeted by three familiar sights: one (1) sweatpants-and-shirt-clad boyfriend, slouched on their couch with his phone almost touching his nose; two (2) clashing smells, burnt beyond recognition, wafting from a wok in their kitchen; and three (3) containers of takeout, probably hastily bought after the wok endeavour, seated triumphantly on their coffee table.

In his college days, and even his early law school days, bachelor Soonyoung would never have predicted himself to welcome, let alone _enjoy_ this sort of familiarity; but at twenty-seven going on twenty-eight and with countless evenings of overtime at the firm settling into his bones, he’s come to deeply appreciate the stability that his and Wonwoo’s home life brings. Wonwoo is his constant.

That’s why it’s odd that tonight it takes Soonyoung’s exaggerated key-jangling and the door’s gentle _click_ shut for Wonwoo’s attention to be pulled away from his phone and towards his boyfriend. For a moment, Soonyoung catches Wonwoo’s eyes widening in surprise— as if he was so immersed in whatever thing he was reading on his phone that he hadn’t noticed Soonyoung’s habitual seven pm. arrival— but he just as quickly recomposes, putting on his usual neutral expression.

For another few moments, that is.

You see, that morning Soonyoung had decided on a whim to wear his _navy_ suit, paired tastefully with a white dress shirt and the 100% silk burgundy tie Wonwoo had bought him as a third anniversary gift. As usual, Wonwoo hasn’t seen him yet today; on weekdays they can only properly spend time together at night, Soonyoung having to wake up at dawn to beat rush hour traffic, while Wonwoo doesn’t need to roll out of bed until the late morning— a perk of working from home. Most mornings, a quick kiss and a rushed _bye-babe-have-a-good-day!_ from Soonyoung to a half-asleep Wonwoo has to suffice.

So, Soonyoung decided to shake things up for today’s evening greeting. As much as he loves the familiarity of their weeknights spent cuddling over takeout and _Brooklyn Nine-Nine_ and their Friday night and weekend sex, an equal part of himself still craves the adrenaline, the _excitement_ that spontaneity brings.

So.

Soonyoung _knows_ this specific suit and tie combo is Wonwoo’s favourite look on him (something to do with his childhood crush on Phoenix Wright; Soonyoung thinks it’s the best compliment he’s ever received) and _he_ knows that _Wonwoo knows_ he knows—the bottom line being that the outfit won’t go unnoticed. It’s foolproof.

And he’s right. It’s barely a second before he’s feeling the weight of Wonwoo’s eyes dragging up and down his body, taking in every curve and jut of the well-fitted fabric. He watches Wonwoo’s jaw clench, Soonyoung holding back a smirk at his boyfriend’s apparent loss of brain-to-mouth function. When he does regain speech, a particularly impish expression is quick to paint his face. “Oh. Hey, babe.”

Perfect.

Soonyoung gives a simpering grin in response, preening at both the check-out and the pet name (despite the frequency of its use in their texts, it took Wonwoo two years to say _babe_ out loud without cringing). He sits his briefcase by the door, gingerly making his way over to the couch and flopping onto a visibly entertained Wonwoo. Soonyoung knows he should really change into something less expensive and wrinkle-prone before getting comfortable, but tonight he’s too damn pleased with himself to care. He can suffer through dry cleaning bills later.

He only mumbles a _hey babe_ in response after he’s lying comfortably on Wonwoo’s lap and nuzzled into his side. The warmth of Wonwoo’s body radiates through his thin cotton shirt, warming his cheek. “So comfy,” he murmurs into the fabric. And Wonwoo always is, literally— getting to work in sweats is yet another perk of working from home. Soonyoung would seriously reconsider his career path if his current profession hadn’t taken nearly a decade of study.

He curls his arms around Wonwoo’s torso. Now closer, he can smell the fresh soap lingering on his arms and neck. “Mm, you smell good too.”

Wonwoo sets his phone on the couch ledge, freeing his hands to play idly with Soonyoung’s hair. “Had to shower—“

“Without me?” Soonyoung interprets half-heartedly, earning him a pinch on the ear. He smiles stupidly at the deep laugh he feels reverberating through Wonwoo’s chest.

“Romantic. You would’ve loved the part where it took me half an hour to wash the chilli oil smell out of my hair— really sexy stuff. Anyway, as I was saying. I had to shower after I tried making that Chinese dish that you like, but, uh.” Wonwoo pauses to motion first to the still-smoking wok and then to the takeout containers on the coffee table. “Well. You already know.”

Soonyoung tsks disapprovingly, reaching to smooth back Wonwoo’s bangs then languidly play with the fine hairs on the back of his neck. “Lucky we live so close to Chinatown, babe— those piles of _Idomie_ in your pantry should’ve been a warning sign all those years back. When we got together I didn’t realise you were a _Hell’s Kitchen_ contestant.”

Wonwoo looks away indifferently, but Soonyoung can feel his shivers whenever he slips his hand a few centimetres down the back of his shirt. “The contestants can cook, it’s Gordon who puts the hell into it. And aren’t you forgetting that time you swapped the sugar in Jeonghan and Jisoo’s housewarming pie with—”

Soonyoung stops Wonwoo from speaking any further (he can’t _believe_ he won’t let him live the incident down— salt and sugar look the same, how was he to know?) by pulling him down by the back of his neck and kissing him. Wonwoo lets out an exaggerated hmph that’s quickly replaced by a small groan when Soonyoung removes a hand from his neck and slips it underneath his shirt, massaging across his core and obliques.

Yet, they’ve been together long enough that Soonyoung immediately notices that Wonwoo isn’t reciprocating with his usual gusto. When he flutters his eyes open to check on him, Wonwoo is looking back down with heavy-lidded eyes; but he’s biting his lip in thought. A hesitant question.

Soonyoung pulls himself back up so he’s sitting on Wonwoo’s lap, then speaks softly. “Hey. What’s up?”

Wonwoo only continues chewing his lip, gaze flicking from Soonyoung’s torso to his face and back. Is he worried about ruining the Phoenix Wright suit? Soonyoung’s much obliged to promptly stripping and hanging it somewhere safe.

“Nothing. I’m okay— _better_ than okay. You look. Really fucking hot. It’s just...” He pauses once more. Soonyoung waits calmly.

When Wonwoo does reopen his mouth, he sighs first, before sputtering his words out in a stream. “I want to try something. Remember that time you told me you wanted to try something new, shake things up?— so I thought about it, then I kept thinking— then I thought _of_ something—”

Soonyoung smiles quietly while Wonwoo continues sputtering; his gaze is focussed on just about everything except Soonyoung. It’s really endearing. Wonwoo’s never one to get flustered in day-to-day life, but Soonyoung’s found that when it comes to _Wonwoo_ having to speak first, to suggest things he personally wants to try out in their sex life, that he immediately reverts into a bashful boy. It’s not that Wonwoo’s immature or a prude or unconfident; it’s just that he’s so careful with Soonyoung. So caring. And Soonyoung loves him for it, loves feeling so loved and looked after and cared for— but he also wants Wonwoo to feel comfortable, to be able to relax, to release his inhibitions.

“Wonwoo,” Soonyoung interrupts confidently, squeezing both of Wonwoo’s hands to garner his full attention. Wonwoo pulls his gaze back to Soonyoung’s face. “Wonwoo. Whatever it is, it’s fine. Really. I trust you.”

And he means it— there isn’t anyone in the world that Soonyoung trusts more.

Wonwoo searches Soonyoung’s face a final time, before nodding resolutely.

“Alright.”

Still holding eye contact, Wonwoo unclasps their hands and shifts both of Soonyoung’s legs so that they’re on either side of his torso, Soonyoung now straddling him. With one hand he reaches to hold Soonyoung’s face, brushing a thumb across his cheek, before moving in to kiss him, slow and open-mouthed. Soonyoung reciprocates yet lets Wonwoo take the lead, following his ebbs and flows. He feels Wonwoo’s other hand press against his chest for a moment before moving to unbutton his suit jacket, peeling it off his shoulders gingerly.

When it’s off, Wonwoo’s lips push against Soonyoung’s one last time before they’re slowly pulled back, both of them opening their eyes. Wonwoo’s lips are flushed already, as is his face— he seems to be in a pleasant daze. Once recomposed, he works with nimble fingers to unknot the burgundy silk tie from Soonyoung’s neck.

“Just a moment,” he smiles, concentrated on the slippery fabric strip. “I spent a fortune on this thing— need to make sure we get full use out of it.”

Soonyoung grazes his fingers along the back of Wonwoo’s neck as he works on the tie, watching on with growing curiosity.

“Okay.” Now fully undone, Wonwoo smooths the tie out and holds it from end to end, gauging its length scrupulously.

When he doesn’t go on to discard it with the suit jacket, his gaze now flickering between the burgundy silk and Soonyoung’s face, Soonyoung’s imagination very quickly catches up to what’s about to happen. He feels adrenaline flow through his veins and he has to bite his lip to suppress a moan. “Oh fuck.”

Wonwoo smiles coyly now, bringing the tie towards Soonyoung’s face. “A good ‘oh fuck’?”

“A very good one. Please, do continue.”

Wonwoo’s grin is the last thing Soonyoung sees before the silk is wrapped carefully around his face, covering his eyes and sitting snuggly behind his ears. There are a few gentle tugs, a knot at the back formed— and the makeshift blindfold is fixed into place.

Then, darkness.

The silk is smooth and comfortable against Soonyoung’s face. The hands previously tying his blindfold now shift to feel down his clothed body, from his shoulders to his torso to his ass. Soonyoung hears Wonwoo let out a deep, unrestrained groan. He bites his lip, wondering how he looks, how _good_ he must look for Wonwoo to be this stirred up already— quickly realising that tonight, he’ll be putting his mind's eye to good use.

He’s given a quick kiss before being lifted up by his thighs, his hands instinctively reaching to hold Wonwoo’s upper back, and he’s hastily carried somewhere— their bedroom, presumably. He giggles despite himself, feeling Wonwoo’s shit-eating grin against his chest in response.

Soonyoung feels himself sink into plush fabric as he’s gently laid onto their bed. He shivers at the newness of it all, his vulnerability and pliability to Wonwoo’s touch, and hones in on Wonwoo’s hand smoothing back his hair and the closeness of his breath to his ear.

“Just a second babe—”

Wonwoo’s weight shifts off the bed. Then, there’s a minute of rustling around before a few items are placed on the bedside table. Soonyoung initially assumed that Wonwoo was just digging around for the lube, but after hearing a cardboard box or two being opened, he’s no longer sure.

When Wonwoo returns to the bed, his movements are languid, painfully slow. He slots a leg between Soonyoung’s own, making Soonyoung groan when he presses lightly on his groin and trails feather-light kisses up his clavicle, his neck, his ears. Soonyoung’s breathing deepens when Wonwoo begins nipping his ear, tongue dipping into his conch’s curve, one hand massaging his ass while the other pops open the buttons of his dress shirt. Soonyoung starts reaching to help unbutton himself, but his hand is quickly pushed away and pinned to the bed.

“Let me.”

Everything is so, so slow.

Yet Soonyoung quickly discovers that the slowness, combined with his lack of sight, pushes him to focus on what _is_ happening, amplifies the lazy rutting of Wonwoo’s leg against his thigh, deepens the slow-building heat in his core. And he’s so relaxed, so focussed on Wonwoo’s tongue licking its way across his jawline and around his mouth, that he doesn’t even realise that his arms have been raised above his head and his hands are now restrained to the headboard.

Fuck.

Soonyoung squirms at the sudden lack of contact when Wonwoo pulls away to remove his own shirt, leaving his sweats on. He uses the time to tug lightly at the material binding his wrists— the knot is secure but comfortable, the fabric luxuriously silky and similar in feel to the blindfold.

“All good?” Wonwoo checks after he’s discarded his shirt.

“Completely— but how the hell did you tie this so quickly?”

He can almost hear Wonwoo’s smirk.

“Practise.”

The mattress shifts, Wonwoo trailing his hand down Soonyoung’s stomach to unzip his trousers. He tugs them down a couple of inches, pausing shortly to palm Soonyoung through his briefs, before completely removing his pants and underwear in one swift pull.

The next few moments are quiet. Soonyoung wonders what Wonwoo’s thinking, what he’s seeing— he unconsciously curls inwards, the silence and lack of visual feedback momentarily making him self-conscious.

“So beautiful,” he finally hears, in a whisper.

Things move faster for a bit, the pace picking up. Soonyoung hears a bottle click open, lube squirting onto Wonwoo’s hands and fingers. His left ankle is propped up on Wonwoo’s shoulder, Soonyoung feeling his proximity now from the hot, concentrated breath against his inner thigh.

He shivers at the coolness of the lube-covered finger now circling his hole, dipping in a few centimetres at a time before circling back out and around. It’s _tantalizing_. If his hands weren’t restrained he’d push three of his own fingers in to put himself out of his misery. “Fuck, Wonwoo.”

“Slow and steady babe.”

“ _Fuck_ slow and steady—”

Soonyoung gasps, back arching, when Wonwoo suddenly pushes in a finger, soon followed by another, down to his bony knuckles. He strokes slowly at first, pressing his thumb lightly into Soonyoung’s perineum, to let him adjust to their size. But when Soonyoung begins to whine, begging for more friction, he crooks his fingers just a bit, quickening his pace.

“God Wonwoo— it's so— ” With his hands and eyes occupied, Soonyoung’s full focus is on Wonwoo’s touch. It's all-consuming. He’s never usually this sensitive, but he can already feel a heat burning in his core, precum beading at his tip, leaking down and onto his crotch.

Wonwoo must notice, because his pace begins to slow down until he’s completely removed his fingers. Soonyoung hears a lewd, wet noise and he moans at the thought of Wonwoo sucking his lubed-up fingers dry.

“Soon-ah,” Wonwoo murmurs as he reaches over for something on their bedside table, along with more lube. “Open wide.”

Soonyoung opens his mouth expectantly, only to intake a sharp breath at the lubed-up butt plug now being eased up his ass. Something on Wonwoo’s phone is tapped, probably an app, and the plug begins gently vibrating.

“Holy shit— Wonwoo— _ah_ — when did you buy all this?”

“About a month ago. I had to test it first, though.”

Soonyoung groans at both the pleasant vibrations of the plug inside him and the thought of Wonwoo trialling _this_ out while he’s at work. He feels his dick twitch, breathing starting to quicken, and he clenches his jaw.

“Hm,” Wonwoo muses out loud. “Lucky me, I don’t even have to do anything for you to come.”

“ _Ah_ — Fuck. Touch me Wonwoo. Please.”

“Oh?” Wonwoo’s voice drips with smugness; Soonyoung almost rolls his eyes. “Okay. I’m going to ride you now.”

Soonyoung makes a choked sound when Wonwoo lowers himself onto him. He’s so _tight_ — and the smug idiot's bumped up the speed of the plug too. Every sensation is so strong, all of Soonyoung feeling so full. It intensifies even more when Wonwoo begins moving, having adjusted himself to Soonyoung’s size.

Soonyoung would wrap his arms around Wonwoo’s shoulders if he could but instead makes do with curling his legs behind his back. He can hear Wonwoo’s quiet pants slowly growing louder as he moves and grinds downwards, one hand gripping onto Soonyoung’s shoulder while the other slicks up and down his dick. Soonyoung imagines how Wonwoo must look right now— face flushed over, hand on his cock, ass in the air— and combined with everything else he's experiencing, it’s almost enough to send him over the edge.

“Wonwoo,” he chokes out. “Wonwoo, I need to see you.”

Wonwoo obliges, panting and still moving as he reaches to first pull Soonyoung’s hands free and then remove the blindfold from his face.

Soonyoung almost cries at the sight, love rushing to him in technicolour.

“ _Soon-ah_ —” Soonyoung pulls Wonwoo flush against him, positioning his hips just so in a way he knows will push Wonwoo over. He breathes him in, soapy freshness now mixing with their sweat, then pistons up.

There’s one more thrust until Wonwoo unravels, coming with a sputtering breath onto Soonyoung’s stomach and thighs. Arching his back and sunken onto him, it’s enough to send Soonyoung over also; he pulls out not long before he comes, spilling onto Wonwoo’s ass and dripping back onto his groin.

Bodies sweaty and entangled, their chests rise and fall with each other, dazed and out of breath.

Ten or twenty minutes, or maybe half an hour later, Soonyoung eloquently breaks the silence.

“Wow.”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo breathes back.

Soonyoung lays facing the ceiling, idly playing with Wonwoo’s still-wet fingers. “So what brought that on?”

“Like I said. I remembered you wanting to shake things up, and when I really thought about, so did I. And you’ve been so consumed by work lately.” Wonwoo turns to his side, scooching Soonyoung closer for warmth. “I was going to wait until Friday, but then you came home in the Phoenix Wright suit.”

Soonyoung hums, smiling quietly but triumphantly. Then, his mind flicks back to their earlier conversation. “Wow, by the way, I can’t believe you still remember the housewarming pie incident. Jisoo was so polite about it, he even ate a whole slice; if Jeonghan hadn’t been so upfront...”

Wonwoo laughs into Soonyoung’s chest, until his stomach’s grumble interrupts him. “That reminds me, time for some _edible_ food. After another shower.” He slowly peels himself off their now-damp blankets, reaching a hand out to Soonyoung. “Care to join?”

Soonyoung accepts, fingers making home in Wonwoo’s.

**Author's Note:**

> i dont actually know how to write smut im sry


End file.
